Yield
by tailor31415
Summary: "He needed no proof of Merlin's submission, of how he would always yield to Arthur, of how he would only use his powers for Camelot, for Arthur." Arthur's councilors ask an unbearable thing of Arthur. A semi-reveal fic.


It was a long time after – after Gwen was sent away; after Agravaine was finally proved traitor by Gaius; after Morgana went off to train with the druids of the other four kingdoms – that Merlin forgot his caution and fear. That Arthur found out and sent him away.

So, Merlin set out for Ealdor – to see his mother, to tell her he would have to leave the land of Camelot and he may never see her again – and just a day after he left, Merlin was caught by Arthur.

In the clearing where he was found – exhausted from his flight and restless night – Merlin fell to his knees before Arthur – for the first time either could recall. I'm sorry, he had said, I beg your forgiveness. And, when Arthur merely looked at him – eyes unreadable – Merlin went on, I can still go if this is too much for you.

There was a huff of breath and a sudden wrenching of Merlin's neckerchief as Arthur pulled him up. I hate you for making me do this, he had replied, voice soft in the surrounding quiet, For making me traitor to myself.

But Arthur brought him back anyway.

And after that were so many stories. So many winter evenings of Arthur watching Merlin from his chair before the fire as the other regaled tale after tale of what he had done. For Arthur – almost always for Arthur, but sometimes for Gaius or his mother or even Freya.

And then Arthur did it.

He made magic legal again. He named Merlin court sorcerer.

And then came the request.

* * *

><p>Arthur gestured to the bench opposite him one evening as Merlin placed the plate on the table. Merlin quickly sat – this a common occurrence now – and reached towards the food. "Not tonight," Arthur said, gently pushing his hand back. "I must speak with you about something."<p>

Merlin gave him a look – his tone so oddly formal.

"My councilors…my father's old councilors are very stubborn, Merlin. So set in their ways. I wonder if all kings leave their councilors to control their sons after they die–"he began to muse.

"Arthur," Merlin prodded, "Say whatever it is."

"My councilors." A swallow. Merlin knew this would not be good. "They do not believe you could truly be loyal to me. To Camelot. Not after…Morgana, and Nimueh. They ask for…for proof that you are subject to me." Arthur peaked up at him, lifting his head from where it had been ducked down.

"Oh," Merlin replied, "That's all?" He reached forward and popped a sausage in his mouth.

"No, Merlin," Arthur growled, anger now clear in the narrowing of his eyes and the firm set of his jaw. Merlin quickly swallowed what he had been chewing. "They ask something of you. Something I cannot bare to ask." His eyes squeezed shut.

Merlin placed his hand on Arthur's folded and clenched ones, against the table top. He would do anything for this man. "Go ahead," he urged, "You know I will do anything they ask, for you – for the Camelot you hope to create." Merlin leaned forward slightly, catching Arthur's barely open eyes and smiled as he added, "For Albion."

* * *

><p>Arthur watched the door, knowing full well that Leon and Elyan were eyeing him from their own seats along the table. They were on the far side of the table – the two chairs closest to the door. The proper seats for the knights, his father had always said, where they could easily face any threat.<p>

It was not a threat Arthur waited to come through the door.

Between them and Arthur's own seat at the head of the table, there were the councilors. Most of them Arthur would never speak to outside of these chambers – men that seemed wholly consumed with their duties, with their positions, with their titles. But, they had done no harm to Camelot, and their work was often better than Arthur could have done. Geoffrey was also there, next to Leon, across from Gaius.

Gaius was looking at Arthur – eyebrow raised in a way Arthur knew meant he either suspected what was to happen or already knew.

There was a knock on the closed doors – one of the guards surely, for Merlin never knocked. Arthur opened his mouth to speak and found his throat tight and dry. Clearing it slightly, he called, "Enter."

From his seat, he saw no one when the door swung open – only a glimpse of the guard's arm as he pushed on the wood. From Leon's and Elyan's widening eyes, he knew the sight he had feared was what they saw.

Arthur did not want this. He needed no proof of Merlin's submission, of how he would always yield to Arthur, of how he would only use his powers for Camelot, for Arthur. He knew that well enough from all the years they had been together – from the times he had drunk poison for him, had ridden out against armies and dragons, had stood by him when Arthur himself was afraid of what was to come.

There was a hush in the chambers – there was never silence here, the men always muttering and murmuring – as the councilors' eyes dropped to the floor near the door. Arthur could barely keep himself from rising, from seeing for himself what Merlin was doing.

He clenched the arm of his chair as he leaned his head over as far as possible without catching the attention of the councilor nearest him. His breath caught in his throat – there he was. Merlin was crawling along the ground – head hanging down, eyes fixed on the floor, hands and knees scuffing as he moved.

The other man approached him slowly, and Arthur noticed with relief the guard had pulled the door shut behind Merlin – the whole castle did not need to see this. Should never see this.

Arthur nearly rose again when Merlin's hand caught on an uneven tile and he almost toppled over. He noted Leon holding Elyan back at the end of the table, just barely seeing them from the corner of his eye – suddenly he was glad it was not Gwaine there with Leon today; all the other knights took turns. He did not look towards Gaius, knowing the man would be frowning fiercely, sadly. He could not bear such a thing.

Merlin reached him then; he paused next to his chair and hovered there awkwardly for a moment. Knowing no other solution, Arthur reached over and put his hand on Merlin's head. The man's curling locks were soft against his skin and he pushed down slightly as he stroked his hand back.

Eyes flicked up towards his and then Merlin settled back on his haunches, head still bowed under the weight of Arthur's hand. Arthur raised his head and looked straight at the eyes of the councilor who had brought forward this request – the leader of those left from his father.

The man stuttered slightly as he began to speak again.

Arthur could curse them all, wanted to execute them all. How dare they – not only would they request such an act, such humiliation, but now they obviously dragged out their speeches. They brought up random concerns and unnecessary subjects every time Arthur attempted to end the session.

It was the middle of winter, almost on spring – what need had they to speak of the proper time to begin trade of the summer fruits. Utter ridiculousness, Arthur thought.

He could feel Merlin quivering beneath his hand. Arthur glanced at him – his eyes were squeezed shut, his ears flushed with red – and began to stroke softly with two fingers, just enough that Merlin could feel but none could see.

Merlin did not deserve such embarrassment. After all the tales of what he had done for Arthur, what he had given up for Arthur, the man had barely been able to restrain himself from honoring Merlin then and there. Arthur had known the people would need time after so many threats from Morgana, from her immortal army, from his father's demise, to accept such changes.

But, Arthur was prouder of no other man – he even felt far more pride for the actions of Merlin than of himself. He always would. Especially when Merlin had taken him out to a clearing not far from Camelot one night, creeping quietly with a skill Arthur knew he had developed after all those years of keeping his secret. He had hushed every question Arthur had tried to pose, giving him a smile and saying he would see soon.

And then Merlin had shown him. His other secret. The dragon. Or, rather, the dragons.

Arthur, though he would always deny it, had yelled with shock when he had seen the Great Dragon again – Kilgharrah, Merlin had introduced him. Not merely because he had last thought the dragon to be dead, but because, well, he was laughing at Arthur as he was introduced.

And there was also Aithusa. So beautiful, and able to bring such a large smile to Merlin's face.

Arthur could not be prouder of Merlin – for his forgiving heart, for his wisdom in preserving such magnificent and terribly beautiful creatures.

And now he was forced to this, this subjection, this humiliation. Arthur was ashamed, for being so weak that he could not reject these men's request. That he had allowed himself to be forced to do this to Merlin.

Merlin, who he knew could have been a king himself – Arthur had seen how the druids respected him, nearly worshiped him.

When they were finally finished, finally quieted, Arthur quickly rose, "Dismissed!" Without meeting anyone's eyes, he hoisted Merlin up by one arm and shoved him towards the door on the far side of the chambers – the one that led to what had been his father's rooms. They were unused now – Arthur would probably never be willing to move into the room where he had watched his father die. Where, he now knew, Merlin had tried to save his father's life, where Morgana's curse had killed him.

The other stumbled – Arthur was sure his legs must be numb and tingling now – and Arthur was right behind him, hovering, readying to catch him if he fell. He ignored the calls of Elyan and questions from Leon as he hurried out – he could deal with them later, tomorrow.

And then, they were out of the chamber. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

><p>He herded Merlin towards his chambers – heading him off at the tops of stairs and the hallways that would lead away every time Merlin attempted to escape. Merlin's head was ducked the whole time, his eyes hidden from Arthur's searching gaze.<p>

Clenching his jaw, Arthur nearly shoved him into his own chambers. Looking at the table where they had shared many peaceful meals, Arthur felt himself calm. He turned and bolted the door.

Merlin stood in the middle of the room – the blush from his ears now spread to his cheeks. Arthur opened his mouth to speak and shut it again. He had no words; nothing to say that would make up for what he had done to Merlin.

Instead, he strode past Merlin – towards his bed – and began to strip off his clothes. His black, velvet jacket fell to the floor, followed by his outer shirt. The rest of his clothes fell in a messy line he knew Merlin would complain about in the morning.

He heard the hitch in Merlin's breath behind him as his hands reached the lacing of his trousers and knew the other man had been watching him. Just as he planned.

Arthur turned and his eyes found Merlin's. Gaze locked, he walked backwards until his knees bumped the bed and he slowly lowered himself to be seated. Merlin's eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape.

Nodding at him, Arthur raised one hand and stretched it out towards Merlin. There was an audible and noticeable swallow and then Merlin was approaching him. His hands shook slightly as he raised them to his shirt hem to pull it off – from nerves or something from before, Arthur could not tell.

Arthur let a small smile touch on his face as he slid back across the furs. When his back touched the headboard, Arthur stared at Merlin until his eyes appeared from behind his shirt as it was removed. Studying his face, Arthur slowly spread his arms out until each hand grasp one of the bed columns.

Merlin's eyes widened even more and followed his movements as Arthur flexed his arms and kept his hands where they were. "Go ahead," he urged, voice low and nearly shocking in the silence of the room.

There was a long pause – Merlin's eyes falling to the furs at the foot of the bed, until he raised them again and they were shining gold. Arthur nodded and watched Merlin's lips move in a whisper. Rope bonds appeared on his wrists – tying him to the bed posts securely. He tested them as Merlin began to unlace his own trousers. The wood creaked under the pressure but the bonds were secure.

Merlin moved along the bed and up to straddle him. Arthur suddenly wanted to tell him how no one would ever compare to Merlin – how he could never find someone so loyal, so true. Not Morgana, not Agravaine, not Lancelot, not Gwen, not even Uther. He wanted to say that he would always trust Merlin – that he knew Merlin had the power to kill him at any moment and yet he did nothing but serve Arthur with the utmost earnestness.

Arthur opened his mouth and found a finger pressed against his lips instead. His eyes found Merlin's and he read the knowledge in them, read that Merlin knew, read that Merlin understood.

So, instead, he was silent as Merlin reached over to the cabinet along the bed and retrieved the oil Arthur kept there for his shoulders after practice. He was silent as Merlin prepared himself – eyes squeezing shut in a slight wince and then pain slowly fading from his expression – and then prepared Arthur, fingers threading through his laces slowly beforehand.

He longed to reach out and touch Merlin's face, his prominent cheekbones, his lips, his arms, his heaving flanks, to press his lips to Merlin's red ones, but Arthur simply lay there. Merlin needed this – Arthur wanted him to have this. This control – this exchange of trust and power.

And so when Merlin finally sunk onto him, bit by bit until Athur was fully sheathed within, Arthur found it was not as difficult as he had imagined to keep himself from thrusting up into the heat. He waited instead, breath coming quickly between his lips and eyes fixed on Merlin's closed-off expression.

Merlin's eyes opened and he smiled fondly at Arthur. And, ever so slowly, began to rock against him.

Smiling back, Arthur tilted his head up somewhat and Merlin's lips met his as the other man bent slightly. He began to ride Arthur in earnest, thighs working to bounce him up and down, and his gaze was fixed on Arthur's face the entire time, hands pressing into his shoulders.

When he finally came, and Arthur soon after from the pressure circling tight around him, Merlin leaned forward until his forehead rested on Arthur's.

"Thank you," they both whispered softly to each other.

* * *

><p>AN: Had this idea in my head and just had to write it. Hope you enjoy!<p>

Please review if you like!

Disclaimer: Not my personal property and I take no property claims to the show/characters.


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